


The Things I Do for You

by QueerIsHere



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Because that deserves a tag in itself, Blow Jobs, But a romantic shit, Cute Peter Parker, Cute Wade Wilson, Explicit Sexual Content, Fear of Flying, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mile High Club, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Loves Wade Wilson, Peter Parker's Ass, Peter is a Little Shit, Peter knows Wade's Deadpool the entire time, Peter's afraid of flying, They're cute, Wade Wilson Loves Peter Parker, Wade finds out Peter's Spider-Man, Will edit later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 15:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15608988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerIsHere/pseuds/QueerIsHere
Summary: Wade flies commercial to Italy for a hit. There in the airport, he meets Peter, a sweet/cute guy who seems all too eager to get the hell off the plane.Also, Sketchers are for everybody.EDIT: There will be a second part for the aftermath!





	The Things I Do for You

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! I've wanted to write a fanfic where Peter's afraid of flying for a while so here it is! Also, this is majorly unedited because I want to submit the 5000th fanfic for this pairing and time's ticking! Hope you all enjoy!

Why Wade chose to fly commercial this time for a hit, he couldn’t tell you. All he knew was that when he woke up after a particularly rough night that consisted of heavy drinking and approximately 3 bullets to his brain, he had spent $700 on a plane ticket to Florence. Always being one to not judge his past self’s actions too harshly (JOKE), Wade decided that maybe instead of going through all the effort of hijacking one of Iron Douche’s prized jets, he might as well treat himself to not being chased like 50 cent hooker going after a politician for once. So he went through it all. Tried to engorge himself on the conventional blandness that is “normal” by replacing his usual red and black ensemble with his favorite Spider-Man hoodie and custom pink light up Sketchers. However, by the looks the other airport goers were giving him, he might as well have gone as Deadpool. Even that would be less ridiculous then seeing 6’2” man who, on the scale of 1 to 10, has been given the generous attractive factor of the square root of -1, has Hello Kitty luggage, and looks generally like he’s about to shoot up the place (which, if things don’t go as planned, might be a possibility.) 

But so far so good. By the expression on the worker’s face he’d passed the baggage check with flying colors, and by colors, he means dishing out a wad of that sweet sweet green that makes the world too keen. After that was smooth sailing. He threatened a TSA agent to stay quiet after looking at his passport with his before face. Bought a bagel. Nothing really out of the usual. By the time he sat down in the departure lounge he was about ready to call it a night. If anything he would’ve taken the increased, laser-certified security Stark had programmed in his tower to this.

His eyes shot down for a moment when the mother across from him winced in pity. The mother’s son sat next to her, kicking his legs while sipping from a juice box and when he felt Wade staring, glanced up. Inwardly preparing himself for the open ridicule he had gotten from most children, this one simply looked at Wade’s Sketcher’s and grinned widely as he kicked his own together. Red, white, and blue shined from his Paw Patrol issued shoes and reflected in Wade’s heart.

Some things weren’t all bad.

 

\---

 

The wait for the plane was more brutal than Wade had thought. He’d even made a point to himself to at least show a half hour earlier to ease the blow but having to sit down in one place for so long was really taking a toll on him and honestly, he didn’t know if he was gonna make it. The thought of dropping some bodies to pass the time had crossed his mind enough to trigger the sliver of rationality left and tell him he needed a non-lethal distraction, quick.

He tried almost everything. Played all of the games in his phone that didn’t require WIFI (because even though he had enough dough to drop, the whole principle of paying for internet in a public space which one would  perceive would have free WIFI and doesn’t, is just about one of the largest craps Wade had witnessed being taken on the good people that entered Manhattan Regional Airport.) Look at him, getting into real, complex issues that have affected society for years. Deadpool “The Menace” With the Mouth? Uh, yeah right the Daily Bugle. More like, Deadpool “Cares for the People” With his Mouth.

And as he thinks this, he does not regret the wording one bit.

Suddenly, the PA jolts him back to the real world and announces that his flight will begin boarding in about 5 minutes. He wants to have landed already. In another life, he would have, thanks to the Iron Dildo’s flying Weiner shoots him out super quick, but alas. He is not there.

Instead he sits patiently, making silly faces at the cute Filipino kid across from him, who before looked just about as bored as Wade felt, reaching the point where he nearly woke his slumbering mother in the need of a hearty source of entertainment. And Wade, curse his holy heart, knows what it feels like to be short of sleep because of an extra mouth to feed. He too has spent many sleepless nights taking care of his new hamster, Hammyton. Oh, and then there’s Ellie but she can basically take care of herself now. Always the independent that one.

Before the son can tap at his mom’s shoulder, Wade kicks a sneaker at his chair to get his attention and makes just about the silliest face he can (which, let’s be honest, probably looks like he’s eaten babies before). This pulls a flurry of giggles from the boy who makes a face back. They continue this until the woman at the gate begins listing off sections. Wade then stands and waits in line like a civilized human being

That’s when he saw him.

The man panted heavily as he rushed to the end of the line, red-cheeked and a bit dewy from his sprint. His dark brown hair was swept up in a way that makes Wade bite his lip but he thinks it was the eyes that makes him come undone. Just about the purest, most perfect harmony between jade and brown. The bombshell stands and waits (Wade estimates he’s between 20-25 years old), one hand patting his right coat pocket which probably holds his boarding pass and passport. He does this like clockwork, every time a person leaves to board the plane. Wade tries to look as inconspicuous as he can, blatantly staring at possibly the physical incarnation of the seven wonders of the world.

“Sir? Sir, it's your turn,” The lady at the desk who calls out is clearly more than a little weirded out.

“Right. Earth. Airplane. Italy. Got it,” Wade mutters sarcastically to himself as he flips open his ticket and passport for the woman to check and stamp. When all is said and done, he looks once more behind him, taking in the brunet’s pursed lips and sickly demeanor before boarding the airplane.

 

\---

 

Turns out, every so often, life is good to you. In Wade’s case, the man with the mouth-watering  everything turns out to be sitting right next to him at the window seat. Normally, the merc would’ve fought tooth and nail for that seat but decided to let it go. He had a much better view now anyway. But he couldn’t help but notice how tightly the guy’s hands were clasped together and how his knee bounced as if the airplane itself was shooting it with tiny shocks of electricity.

Definitely not a frequent flyer.

“Uh-um excuse me?” his seatmate stuttered charmingly and ran a shaking hand through his perfectly mussed curls. “Would y-you mind s-sw-switching seats w-with me?”

“No problemo,” Wade responded, apparently having resorted to channel surfer-level linguistics in order to talk to someone cute. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood, shuffling his way out of the row so they could switch. The little boy came walking down the aisle with his mother busy trying to fit her carry on in one of the overhead compartments.

“I get to sit with you!” He beamed at the two of them, showcasing his ticket like an award. Wade promptly high-fived the kid, and tried very hard not to yell in success when he caught  CuteGuy69 smiling at them both. When they all finally sat down and got settled, the stewardess began the in-flight passenger announcements.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the   **Fasten Seat Belt**  sign. If you haven’t already done so, please stow your   **carry-on luggage** underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt. And also make sure your   **seat back** and   **folding trays** are in their full upright position. If you are seated next to an   **emergency exit** , please read carefully the special instructions card located by your seat. If you do not wish to perform the functions described in the event of an emergency, please ask a flight attendant to reseat you. We remind you that this is a   **non-smoking flight** . Smoking is prohibited on the entire aircraft, including the lavatories. Tampering with, disabling or destroying the lavatory smoke detectors is prohibited by law. If you have any questions about our flight today, please don’t hesitate to ask one of our flight attendants. Thank you.”

Multiple times, throughout the speech, CuteGuy69 tugged on his seatbelt to make sure it was secure before checking for all emergency exits about 17 times. Not that Wade was paying attention or anything.

“First time flying?” He asked and instantly felt like stabbing himself for how cliche he sounded. Where was that famous Winston Wit?

To his relief, the man laughed a little breathlessly, checking once more to see if he was buckled, “You could say that. I know the possibility of getting into a crash is statistically improbable, given how there is approximately a crash every 1.2 million flights. Plus your chances of dying are only 1 in 11 million, so there’s that.”

“And yet this is your 18th time making sure the emergency exits haven’t spontaneously disappeared into thin air,” Wade informed with a crooked smile.

CuteSciencyGuy69 gave him a super adorable smile, “I guess I just want to make sure the flight goes as smoothly as possible.”

“But you know you can’t control that right? Turbulence is gonna happen no matter how much you tighten your seatbelt,” He knew he wasn’t really being helpful but the guy seemed to appreciate his straightforwardness.

The man sighed, “True.” He then held out his hand, “Peter.”

The merc took it, probably a little too eagerly, “Wade.”

“Steven,” a small voice piped up and both men looked to see the third member of their party with his hand outstretched as well.

“It’s very nice to finally add a name to your face. We can totally be called Steven’s Sketchers Squad now. Your mom get on okay?” Wade asked as he shook Steven’s hand.

Steven smiled toothly, “Mhm!” He leaned back to reveal his mother sitting in the middle of the row next to them. “Hi mom!” She waved back at him and Wade.

“Do you need help buckling up, little man?” Peter offered, noticing the kid was unbuckled.

“No, thank you. Mommy showed me how earlier since she couldn’t sit by me,” he declined politely before fastening himself in like the pro he was. God, Wade missed Ellie. He had to make sure to bring her an extra special present when he gets back.

“Amazing! I wish I had my mommy help me earlier. You should have seen me I was really struggling,” Wade said in mock seriousness, trying not to break character when he sees Peter cover up a chuckle with his hand.

“I did too at first, don’t worry,” Steven consoled him and sat back into his seat, little legs swinging back and forth as he looked around.

Peter smiled once more at the kid before rummaging through his backpack, pulling out a pair of bright blue headphones, and popping one earbud in. He then plugged them in the audio port on the arm of the chair and switched to the airline channel. Wade huffed out a laugh at that. Poor guy was gonna have a long, anxiety-filled flight.

 

\---

 

It took about 10 more minutes for them to start moving down the runway. Peter, unsurprisingly, had his eyes closed tightly, and gripped onto the armrests so tightly, Wade swore he saw the screen displaying the radio station number glitch. Wade himself has always been uncomfortable at the beginning of the flight as the plane leaves solid ground in favor of air. The kid though? Took it like a champ. Steven very nearly climbed over Peter’s lap to get a good look out the window as they began to take off, eyes wide and bright with the reflections of the clouds in the sky.

Wade found himself basking in the view as well and finally thanked past Wade for buying the ticket. He’s never really been the type to stop and smell the roses when he passed by, being that he’s never had faith in the fact that life’s worth living, but just for this moment he allows himself to believe. With a sweet, jittery,  attractive, and slightly sweaty guy on his right, he has no other choice but to admire and admire and admire.

“Psst! Wade! Mr. Peter! Do you want a fruit snack?” Steven offers, shaking his Scooby Doo fruit snacks in emphasis.

“Dude, you  have to ride in airplanes with me from now on,” Wade whispers in awe and takes a piece. He ended up getting Daphne’s face. Strawberry... Mmmm.

“You too, Mr. Peter?”

The pretty man seems to be deep in concentration, listening to the cabin feed like he’ll find some reason to jump ship - or in this case, plane. Steven nudges Peter and shows him the bag of snacks before pointing at him and then his own mouth. Peter’s face softens considerably and he holds out a hand where Steven dumps a few Scooby snacks out on.

“I only got one. And why don’t  you call me mister?” Wade whines.

“He needs them more than you do. Also we both wear light-up shoes,” The boy replies good-naturedly and pops another in his mouth. Fair point. Steven: one. Wade: zero.

An hour passes and most everyone aboard is asleep or watching a movie. Wade is halfway between both, tuning in and out consciousness in favor of watching Finding Dory. Steven is knocked out cold, his mother peaks forward to check up on him and seems relieved enough to get some more shut-eye of her own. Poor woman’s probably been up for more than 20 hours.

And Peter? He’s still listening. Wade knows from experience that nothing exciting ever happens on that radio channel and he knows that the guy’s afraid of flying but I mean come on. They don’t even play Ariana Grande on there.

“Did you take any Dramamine before the flight?” Wade mumbles, probably the quietest he’s kept his voice in a long time.

This startles Peter who needs a second to calm down, “Oh uh- no. I don’t get motion sickness.”

“It helps with anxiety a bit though. I think I’ve got some in my bag if you need any.”

“That’s… really nice of you. Thanks,” The sincerity in his voice just about gave Wade an energy boost. With his fatigue now forgotten, he stands up and makes his way out of the row, careful not to disturb Steven before opening the overhead compartment. He looks through his bag until he finds the tiny yellow and white bottle. Sitting back down, he hands it to Peter. He pops open the cap and takes two. Wade can see his Adam’s Apple bob up and down as he swallows and tries not to get too hooked on it, “Ideally, I would’ve taken my other medication but this’ll do fine I hope. Thanks again. Do you get motion sick?” Peter asks.

Wade shakes his head, “Nah. I just like to come prepared.”

“I see. That’s admirable. I’m usually the type to forget things and if I remember them, they’re usually the wrong thing.”

Wade can imagine it and wonders how the man’s mornings must go, “I used to be the same way. Then I joined the military and that went all away.”

“That’s really cool. I would’ve joined myself but my aunt wanted me to go to a four-year university, then I got a job at the Daily Bugle, then another job doing… stuff, and- well… life.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone,” Wade sighs, remembering when he was just a lowly cadet scrubbing toilets.

“I bet. How long have you been serving for?”

“Served. Past tense. I was honorably discharged about 4 years ago,” Wow, okay so we’d be using this backstory then?

“Oh, well thank you for your service,” His eyes darted down to the hoodie Wade was wearing. “Th-that’s a cool hoodie. You l-like Spider-Man?” The merc tried not to dwell too much on how Peter’s voice had gotten just a tad higher.

“Love him. Definitely New York’s Angel in Shining Spandex.”

Peter thought for a moment before responding incredulously, “New York’s ASS?”

“You catch on quick! But yeah, he’s definitely my all time favorite hero.”

The brunet blushes and surprises Wade once again with a barely visible smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and tips of his cheeks. “That’s… quite the unpopular opinion, wouldn’t you say? Where I work, my boss has been pretty adamant in letting the city know that he’s a “menace” to society.”

“I’ve never been one to give a fuck about what people think, Petey Pie. You kind of stop caring after having your life on the line so many times.”

Wade was gifted with another genuine smile, “I hear that.”

“You said the Daily Bugle before. What do you work as? Editor? Writer? Part-time model?”

Peter looks like he’s about to burn a fuse, “D-definitely not a model. And I don’t  _ technically  _  work for the company. I’m more freelance. I just sell Jameson pictures of Spider-Man so that he can print them in the tabloids.”

Suddenly, something connected in Wade’s brain, “Wait! You’re  _ the  _ Peter Parker?”

“Might want to lower your voice there, buddy. Unless you want to wake up half the plane. And I yeah, I’m not that big of a deal though. All I really do is take a couple snapshots of Spidey in action now and again and that keeps the cash flowing.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Wade wagged a finger. “Don’t sell yourself short, Petey. No one else in New York’s history has gotten as many clear shots of Spidey babe as you have! You’re, like, the real deal! I follow your Instagram too! God how could I not have recognized you?”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, still blushing heavily much to Wade’s satisfaction, “I don’t post that many selfies.”

“Honestly, that is  _ such _ a shame,” Okay, so maybe the Thirst ™  was a lot stronger than Wade originally thought.

Peter bit his lip before clearing his throat, “S-So, why are you going to Italy?”

He thought for a moment, “Business? No, pleasure. Both. And yourself?”

“I guess you could say pleasure? I’d always wanted to go to the Museo Galileo and take a bunch of photographs of the Sistine Chapel but I never had enough time or money to go. Finally after so many years of saving I did and… here I am.”

“Here you are,” Wade echoed, more endeared than ever. “Pretty sure the first thing you’re going to be doing is sleeping this jetlag off though.”

“I don’t sleep that much anyway so I should be fine. I’m always on call for my other job so I’m usually up and at ‘em at 2 am.”

“Well, time zones are a thing so you’ll be getting up at 9 am from now on. Do you work in a hospital or something?”

“Just some more… volunteer work,” There’s a sparkle of amusement in his eye, as if he just told an inside joke.

“That’s not suspicious or anything,” Wade says sarcastically.

Peter shrugs, “Take it however you want, dude. I don’t care. I’m going to Italy.”

“Learning from the best I see.”

“S’what I strive for,” Peter grinned and took a small peak out of the window before his mouth fell. “I’m gonna start listening to the feed again,” he said quietly before popping in both earbuds.

Damn it! They were making such good progress too! Looks like Wade’ll have to try harder for Peter to feel more secure on their flight… after a nap that is.

 

\---

 

It’s the shaking that jolts Wade awake and for a second he thinks the culprit is a human and reaches for the knife in his jeans. Then he sees the oxygen masks drop, or rather feels them drop when one of them smacks him in the face. It takes him a moment to process everything as he places it over his nose and mouth when finally, his brain catches up. He looks to the right and sees Peter helping Steven with his mask, his own (thank god) secured on his face. With how much the plane is shaking, Wade’s surprised that he even noticed how hard Peter’s hands are trembling.

Steven’s mom has been leaning forward this entire time, holding the piece of plastic to her face so tightly her knuckles have turned white. Even when Peter has finished fastening her son’s breathing device, she does not sit back, almond-shaped eyes never leaving Steven’s face. The kid looks scared but seems to be doing better as the plane re-stabilizes itself.

Peter is a different story.

In the years Wade’s been Deadpool, he’s seen a lot of people cry without feeling an ounce of sympathy. Granted they were all bad people, there has not been one instance where Wade’s felt bad for them. But witnessing Peter’s head in his hands, Peter hunched over and looking so small, Peter’s back and shoulders heaving quickly as he hyperventilates. That’s what gets him.

He reaches out, as steadily as he can, and touches one of Peter’s hands. The man doesn’t raise his head but clutches at Wade’s like a life-line. Surprisingly enough, he can feel his bones break and yeah, it’s super painful, but he’ll be good as new in five minutes. Right now, he needed to ground Peter, whose big, beautiful,  sad eyes were now focused on his. He’s still breathing hard but Wade feels his pulse slowing down with a thumb at his pale wrist. They just sit and stare at each other for a long time, staring and staring until everything falls away. Wade breaks contact for a short while, just to sit and cherish the epitome of perfection that is Peter. The wetness of his lashes causing them to look thicker, his cute little button nose, the cupid’s bow on his full, red lips. Wade can barely feel himself touch his face with his other hand, and wipe away the tears trailing idly down flushed cheeks.

“Thank you,” Peter breathed, eyelashes fluttering just the slightest and with that, he has Wade’s heart. Fuck. They weren’t kidding when they said pretty people could run the world.

“Anytime, baby boy,” Wade murmured and despite every cell of his body telling him not to, pulls away.

“You okay, Mr. Peter?” Steven asks in such a way that Wade wonders if he’s an older brother or protector of some sort. He seems much better now and is back to kicking his legs back and forth while the adults around him whisper amongst themselves in fear. Peter’s smile is tiny and tired but still there and that’s enough to get Steven to nod and pat him softly on the arm.

The intercom then gave a jingle before the captain’s voice sounded, apologizing for the slight drop in altitude and explaining that a strong gust of wind had taken them by surprise and that they were now back on the smoothest course to Florence.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen!” one of the stewardesses announced, “We will begin showing you how to put back your oxygen masks, so if you all would please take them off and tug once on the chord, the masks should retract back into their compartment. And finally, shut the little door!” She then demonstrated the passengers, who did as they were told.

“I just pull on it?” Steven asked and did so, jumping a bit when the mask withdrew with a snap. “Cool! Can I do your’s, Peter?”

“Sure, dude,” Peter handed him the chord to the excited child, allowing him to do so.

Wade checked the time on his watch, “We’ve got 4 more hours. I think if I really tried, I could watch Ready Player One twice but at what cost.”

Peter scrunched up his dainty little nose, “The book’s definitely better than the movie.”

“Baby boy,  _ every  _ book is better than the movie.”

“I disagree. I believe  _ most _ of them are. Not all of them.”

“Oh, yeah? Which ones, huh? Bet you can’t name 5.”

Peter adjusted himself in his seat so that he was facing Wade head-on, “The Godfather, The Princess Bride, The Devil Wears Prada, Jurassic Park, Forrest Gump, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs-”

“Wait, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs was a children’s book, Petey, the movie was  _ bound  _ to be better.”

“And yet, it still is,” Peter lifted his hands in the ‘what can you do’ motion before grinning. Everything in Wade lit up with that smile. He hoped he would do that more.

 

\---

 

There was about an hour and a half left of their flight and most of the passengers were asleep once more. Peter and Wade had stayed up talking since the tiny turbulence issue, quietly getting to know each other more as time went by. Wade being the absolute gentleman he was, didn’t bring up Peter’s fear once, along with how a 5’ 11” man who only “jogs and does some gymnastics” every now and again was able to crush his hand into mush.

Peter happened to instead, “I was 8 when my parents went away on a business trip. It was only supposed to take a few days so they had me stay with my Aunt May and Uncle Ben until they got back. I remember… waking up to my aunt and uncle crying one night so I left my room to see what was up and… I saw they’d turned on the news and it was about a plane crash in the Atlantic,” There it was. The money shot. “For a moment I thought they were both just really sympathetic people until they told me that my parents were both on that flight and that they didn’t make it,” His bottom lip quivered the slightest as his eyes moistened. Peter sniffed and gave a soft, almost deprecating laugh, “And ever since then… I can’t even explain it.”

Wade took a hold of Peter’s hand comfortingly and caressed the back of it with his thumb in slow circles, “Take your time.”

Peter’s eyes zeroed in on where they were connected and sighed, giving his hand a (gentle) squeeze, “Like, I know that planes are safe. I’ve read articles upon articles about them, how they work, what kind of fuel they take, what kinds of complications each design might encounter, that sort of thing. And no matter how much I try to rationalize it in my head, sitting here... in this metal tube along with 180 other passengers, freaks me the fuck out.”

“Peter Piper, that’s just you being human. I, myself, can give long-ass lectures on how irrational fears separate the mind and body. But I can’t, because I have Enochlophobia.”

“The fear of crowds?”

“Yeah, smarty-pants. I mean can you believe it? Me, looking the way I do? I should be happy to have people falling over my feet wherever I go, irony not intended,” Wade joked, shouldering Peter who frowned. Uh oh, not the response he was going for.

“I think you’re pretty, Wade. People  _ should  _ be tripping over themselves when they see you, I mean, look at you,” He gestured wildly at the scarred visage à la dumbstruck Deadpool. “Your eyes are literally the clearest shade of blue I’ve seen in my life and your smile is great to look at! Not to mention your body, I mean, solid work, dude. Sorry if I sound a little gay, ‘cause I am, but-uh- just-yeah,” he trailed off, looking more embarrassed by the second. Peter pursed his lips and by how hard he was blushing, Wade was surprised he couldn’t see steam coming out of his ears. Or maybe his own, he couldn’t really comprehend much at this point beyond how much he wanted to eat the beautiful man before him up. No biggie.

He leaned in a whispered into a burning ear, “Come to the bathroom in two minutes. You’re about to get  _ so  _ lucky.” Peter shivered pleasantly and before he could say anything, Wade was already sidling out of their row and down the aisle.

 

\--- 

 

Exactly 2 minutes passed when Wade heard a timid knock on the bathroom door. He smiled to himself and checked his reflection once more. Just as ugly as before, awesome. Apparently, angels liked that sort of thing.

He unlocked the door and took great pleasure at the image of Peter nervously checking behind him to see if anyone was watching before squeezing inside. “I-I don’t think anyone noticed,” He stuttered, gazing up at Wade through thick eyelashes. Groan.

Wade stepped forward - well really quarter-stepped. It was a small bathroom - until he was against Peter, whose head came up to about Wade’s neck. He cupped a soft cheek and leaned his head down, “Tell me to stop.”

Peter’s eyes fell half-lidded and Wade was so close he could practically taste the mint on his breath, “Stop”

What.

Wade blinked and tried to step back but was held in place by an iron grip. Peter’s eyes held a playful twinkle in them, “You told me to say stop, dummy. Now kiss me before someone has decided that their bladder’s full enough.”

“You little-” Wade growled and threaded a hand through the back of Peter’s hair and tugged him forward so their lips crashed together. “Mmph.”

He tasted just about as amazing as Wade fantasized. The perfect balance of sweet mint and Peter, Peter,  _ Peter _ who was curling his tongue around his in such a way that it nearly made Wade cream himself. He tugged Peter’s head back so that he could mouth at his porcelain jaw, receiving a gorgeous moan as a reward. Wade didn’t know how someone could be so attractive and flawless. Wade also didn’t know how said attractive and flawless person could want him.

“Had my eyes on you for a while, baby,” Peter gasped when Wade sucked at a particularly sensitive spot at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “‘Course I’d be into you. You’re so so so amazing.”

Oh, had he said that aloud? Wade went back to kissing Peter breathless running his hands everywhere he could before settling on his ass. Seriously, was there anything  _ not _ perfect about this guy? “You do squats, Petey?”

“I-unh do- ah! A-A lot of things. Gy-Gymnastics, remember?” Wade groaned at the image of Petey in skin-tight spandex. Okay, he was officially very, very hard and if he didn’t unsheathe his katana in the next minute or so, he was going to go crazy. Crazy-er. He pressed their hips together and felt Peter’s entire body jolt.  

“W-Wade oh my god,” Peter gripped Wade’s shirt, before kissing at his jaw. If the merc had any qualms about Peter being attracted to him, they all went away the moment their fronts touched.

Wade reached under Peter’s shirt, surprising him with some seriously yummy abs. Wordlessly, Peter pulled off his shirt and heaven beholdeth the light of God. He needed his tongue on there   **now** . Wade lifted Peter up and onto the sink, nipping and laving at anything and everything he could, taking pride in the way Peter moaned because of him.

Wade stepped away to pull off his own shirt, accidentally hitting the light switch and bathing them both in darkness. “Shit, that scared me,” Peter said, holding tightly onto Wade.

“Hold on, babe I got this,” He stomped his feet on the ground and suddenly the bathroom was filled with pink and white lights. “I knew I saw that Sketcher’s ad on tv for a reason.”

Peter laughed and pushed at his him, “You doofus, turn the lights back on!”

Wade did as he was told, feeling light in his chest and moved to unbuckle Peter’s jeans before he was stopped and shyly looked at by their owner, “T-Together. Wanna do it together.”

How could he say no to that?

Haphazardly, Wade tugged down Peter’s jeans and underwear, taking a quick moment to thank whatever deity had blessed him with  this, before shucking off his own. Peter opened his mouth as if to say something, eyes-widening as they caught sight of Wade’s dick.

Wade licked his lips, “All for you, baby boy. First, I just wanna have a quick taste…” He trailed off, pulling Peter back on his feet before kneeling. A thing of beauty. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much hair down there. Either Peter was the type to shave frequently or he just didn’t have much in general. That, for some reason, was a lot more arousing than it should have been. The head of his penis was a wonderful shade of pink. It wasn’t that thick, but long enough to get the job done, Wade thinks. Not too veiny either.

Truly a very pretty cock.

But was it a yummy cock? Wade decided to answer that himself, diving in to lap at the head, tasting the slight saltiness of precum. The aroma of Peter was much more concentrated down here, its headiness making Wade moan around the dick in his mouth.

“Fuck,” Peter groaned, putting his lips together as he tried not to make too much noise. Wade’s hands gripped Peter’s thighs, holding them apart as he tried to take more. It was tough, not gonna lie. Since the Weapons X bonanza of ‘15, the amount of sexual Partner’s lining up at Wade’s doorstep had gone from 3 or 4 a week, to a solid 0. Maybe 1 if he paid enough. But he put his mind to it, and as the lovely piece of Peter slid further down and met its home at the back of Wade’s throat, he felt heaps of pride roll off him in waves. Or drip off him. Like the way, little Wade Wilson II was doing right now.

Shit, by how much he was leaking, he was a lot closer than he thought. Giving Peter, one more hard suck, he stood back up and wiped his mouth with a paper towel from the dispenser next to him. Ah, ____ Airlines. It’s like they  _ know _ what’s up. With that, he brought both of their cocks together and began to stroke them quickly.

“Wa-Wade, fuck, so good. Amazing, you’re so amazing,” Peter exhaled hotly against Wade’s ear. Wade’s hips jerked just the slightest at that. Enough for Peter take notice. “You like that, yeah? Like when I compliment you?” Wade whined low in his throat. “Also-ah like it when I moan in your ear like this? So hot, Wade. And  big. Wish you could be in me.”

Wade tightened every muscle in his body that moment so that he didn’t come, “Oh, honey, I’m not gonna last long if you keep talking like that.”

He felt Peter trace his searing tongue around the outer shell of his ear, “But don’t you want to? Don’t you wanna make a mess all over me?” Wade closed his eyes and smashed his lips against Peter’s, stroking them both furiously, swallowing up every moan that bubbled up the man’s throat. Just when he felt himself about to come, he opened his eyes, and found Peter staring at him thick with need. He took a mental picture of the moment and just when he was about to warn him, Peter broke the kiss and mewled into Wade’s clothed shoulder, his hips thrusting into the hand once more and squirted. Holy hell. Wade barely registered that he himself had orgasmed in favor of drinking in Peter as he did.

Peter stayed silent for a few moments, catching his breath before bringing Wade’s hand that he’d used to stroke them both to his mouth, maintaining eye-contact as he suckled on the mess on his fingers. If he hadn’t literally  _ just _ orgasmed, Wade was pretty sure he would have jumped poor Peter, who was way over-sensitive and probably exhausted.

“We- uh- we should probably get back to our seats,” Peter uttered as he cleaned himself off with a wet paper towel while handing Wade another.

“Right…” He replied, eyes nearly popping out of his head when Peter turned around. That ass… he’s seen it many, many times before. He’s worshipped that ass, kept photographs of that ass,  jerked to that ass, pestered that ass into eating at Tacos El Norte with him every Saturday night. “Holy shit.”

“Hm?” Peter hummed in acknowledgment, as he bent down to put his pants back on. “What’s up?”

“Noth-Nothing,” Wade cleared his throat which felt strangely dry for the amount of drool that threatened to come of his mouth. “Say Spid- Petey, Petey-boy, Sir Parker-”

“Yes, Wade?” He interrupted, pulling on his shirt and stretching his arms high above his head, tilting his neck enough to showcase the darkened marks Wade had left him. When he was done, he gazed at him with big dazzling brown eyes. “Something wrong?”

Maybe next time. “It’s- It’s nothing. Just can’t get over how hot you are.” When Peter ducked his head down, cheeks red-hot, Wade knew he was in the clear.

“Enough with that, stud. Let’s get out of here, I can’t breathe.”

 

\---

 

The rest of the flight went smoothly. Steven innocently waved hello at the both of them, oblivious to the fact that they both exited at the same time. Also, Wade was pretty sure the entire plane had heard them getting it on in the bathroom, which ended up being fine because as it turns out when you join the Mile High Club, it’s not like in the movies. People don’t go around clapping you on the back. No, they sit quietly in their chairs, desperately trying to avoid looking in your general direction, bouncing their legs impatiently as they wait for the plane to land.

So for Wade, it was a regular Friday.

“Do you think they heard us?” Peter whispered to Wade, looking so embarrassed he might blow up. (And not like he did in the bathroom HEYO)

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. No,” Wade pretended to think for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”

“Oh god they did,” Peter put his head in his hands, shoulders shaking in a way that Wade thought the worst.

Feeling an inexplicable amount of guilt, Wade rubbed Peter’s back, “I-I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ll forget about it sooner or later… or never.”

Suddenly, Peter snorted and when he looked up, Wade found that he had been laughing. “No, they won’t. They won’t forget for as long as they live.”

Wade began to chuckle as well, “Someone’s probably tweeting it right now. ‘Two men just exited the bathroom together. Hope they were just holding hands. #yikes’” Peter was laughing harder now and Wade was pretty sure that if he’d drunk milk, it would’ve shot out of Spidey’s nose. ‘Would be the third white substance he’s shot at me.’

They both quieted down and for the rest of the flight leaned against each other with their hands clasped together.

 

\---

 

They landed about thirty minutes ago and had exchanged numbers, and hotels, which Wade made sure to call and switch to the one Peter was staying at. Wade stayed with Peter throughout his wait at the baggage claim, keeping an eye out for a possibly red and blue webbed suitcase for his precious vigilante. Deep deep down he knew that Peter probably wouldn’t have a suitcase like that, but he could dream.

“Bye Wade! Bye Peter!  _ Addio  _ !” Steven called out, hand-in-hand with his mother who nodded at them both.

“Bye Steven! Bye Steven’s mom!” Peter and Wade exclaimed and sighed as they rounded the corner.

“Sweet kid,” Peter put a hand on his heart.

“Yeah. Not as sweet as mine though,” Wade said before stopping himself. 

“Oh, you have a kid?” Peter asked, looking - Wade braced himself - … awed? “That’s so crazy! I’ve actually been looking to adopt myself! But  A.) No money and B.) no time plus C.) Agencies are tough on single- gay men with low-income jobs- which is understandable of course. The income part, not the being tough on me because I like guys part. What’s her name? How old is she? What’s her favorite colo-”

Wade blinked, a bit overwhelmed by the sheer amount of joy that filled him as Peter continued to ramble off questions. Okay, so the odds of him meeting someone attractive was pretty moderate. The odds of meeting someone attractive who actually enjoyed being with him were practically nonexistent, maybe a measly .01%. But here he was, standing in front of that .01%.  That itself was a miracle.

A miracle by the name of Peter Parker.

Without saying anything, Wade pulled Peter against him and tilted his chin enough to capture his lips. The man melted into him and kissed him back with just as much intensity. When they separated Wade answered, “Her name’s Ellie, she’s at the wonderful age of 9 and a half, and she loves the color red. What else do you want to know?” Wade told Peter all about Ellie on the way to their cab, showing pictures of the two together.

When they managed to fit their things in the trunk, they entered the cab, Peter speaking fluent Italian to the driver who simply nodded. Wade stared at him, mouthing, “Come on.” Peter winked up at him before entwining their hands together.

“Uh- honeymooners?” The driver asked, heavily accented.

Peter shook his head, “Oh, no-”

“Yes,” Wade cut Peter off. “Just got married and decided to come here. See the sights and whatnot.” Peter covered a smile with his hand.

“Interesting. Very interesting,” the cabbie pondered. “So you mean you  aren’t Deadpool who’s come to visit Florence with a Mr. Parker?”

What. Deadpool looked down and saw Peter who stayed against him. His expression was indistinguishable aside from a knowing glint in his eye. How… when did he-

“I was the one that called you to come here. Georgino Cappelletti? That’s me,” He squirmed in his seat.

Wade sat up straight, “You’re a good actor, Spidey. What was this? A ploy to keep me out of New York for good? Was all of that- us - a lie? DO you even have a fear of flying?”

Peter frowned, “What? Wade, no. I didn’t lie about anything, except maybe keeping a few things like my true identity a secret. I absolutely have a fear of flying but I’ve also kinda sorta been in love with you since forever and made a big dumb plan to try to win you over?”

Huh? “Wait so you’re telling me you planned this entire thing, spent hundreds - maybe even thousands - of dollars on the trip and bore with a 9-hour flight to Italy despite being deathly afraid... for me?”

Peter sniffed and nodded, “I mean… yeah.”

Wade knew what he had to do and reached into his pocket, grazing the handle of his switchblade…

And pulled out his wallet, handing the driver a wad of euros, “Driver, if you get us to our hotel in the next five minutes, I’ll double this.”

The man at the wheel took the money and thanked him a million times in Italian before stepping on the gas. Peter touched Wade’s arm to get his attention, “You’re… you’re not mad at me?”

“Mad at you?” Wade looked at the most supreme human being on the planet, incredulously. “Honey, I couldn’t be any more in love with you! And right now we’re going to our hotel to consummate that love as many times as possible before the churches close.”

“C-Consummate, you mean-” Wade nodded to clarify whatever filthy thoughts were whipping around Peter’s whirlwind brain. “And with the church.”

“We’re getting married!”

“Married,” Peter says dazedly and blinks. “B-But we don’t even have rings! And I didn’t bring a tux and not to mention I want my friends and family here and I also need to call a wedding planner as well and what about the cake-”

Wade realized how fast they might be going, “Baby boy, we can wait to get married in New York if you want.” Peter nodded frantically enough to make Wade laugh.

He bit his lip and shyly wrung his hands, “I-I did lie about one thing.”

“Oh?” Wade was ready to forgive anything his lover might have done on a heartbeat.

“I- I do have rings. Because I’m impatient and dumb and um well,” He brought out a tiny black box from his backpack pocket. “I-I know I’m a handful, and I know I haven’t been totally honest… but Wade Winston Wilson… will you-”

“Baby boy stop! I won’t let you propose to me in a cab! I have standards. Well, they’re pretty low, like Earth’s core low. But still! Standards. You will propose to me at dinner! After we have near animalistic sex - driver! How long until we’re there!” Wade called out, a finger held to Peter’s lips.

“30 seconds Mr. Pool!”

“Excellent. Can you wait thirty seconds, honey?”

Peter scrunched his eyebrows in the endearing way he does when he thinks about things too hard before brightening up and taking Wade’s finger into his mouth as his answer. He nibbled a bit at his knuckle before sucking gently at the tip. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“D- Dr-Driver stop!” Wade yelled as the cab pulling over and stopping with a screech. “Here take the double! Have a nice day!”

“You too, lovebirds!

Wade dragged Peter out of the cab, opened the trunk, and took out all of their luggage and carrying it all to the hotel that was half a block away. “Wade! Stop!”

“Can’t stop the love train known as Wade Wilson, baby!” he shouted back.

“You’re going the wrong way!” Wade paused and looked back to see Peter standing at their supposed hotel entrance with his arms crossed and a cute smirk that made Wade want to kiss off right away. So he raced back to Peter, dropped all the luggage onto the ground and did just that.

Ah, love.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty! Hope you guys loved the boys as much as I did writing them. Feel free to leave kudos and comment what you thought and what you want them to do in Italy (ALL suggestions are allowed ;)))))))
> 
> Honestly, I love the idea of Peter planning this elaborate scheme to follow his heart and tell Wade how much he loves him ahhh It's so cute.
> 
> Also, the kid and his mom though *crying emoji* bless them. 
> 
> See y'all later! Peace!


End file.
